Angels in hell
by Billabong680
Summary: Dean's year is over and he had been sent to hell. There, he is going to find out more about himself then he ever had before.
1. Chapter 1

Angels in hell

Chapter I

Important: The yellow-eyed demon didn't die, but was sent to hell instead.

Dean looked around him, confused. Flames were encircling him, providing an unbearable heat to the place he had been sent. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember what had happen, but the only thing he recalled was this vague pain in his chest before all scenery faded away.

Lightly, as if afraid he could achieve some damage to his own body, Dean brought a shaking hand to his chest, but only found unscathed skin behind, as if all that happened had been a dream.

Closing his eyes, he could only hear the cries louder, as if he was just in front of the one being tortured. There was no silence. Cries, sobs, screaming, the sound of metal against metal was resonating in the red haze of the fire. Suddenly, he felt an abrupt pain in his back that sent him crashing to his knees. He heard the sound of the belt breaking his skin, his blood being splattered in the unnatural fire. Dean cried out in pain and hearing the sound of the belt being raised again, Dean turned over to see his assailant.

The man holding the belt was tall. Taller then Sam would ever be. His skin was burned and red from the fire and an unnatural smirk that gave away his hostility, his pleasure of pain and anger was marking his features. Dark wings burned by fire were folded in his back.

"The mighty Dean Winchester. You aren't so powerful now, aren't you? Not even able to stand straight… what a shame."

Dean raised himself to his knees, before the belt went crashing on his back again. The eldest son of John Winchester cried out in pure agony, closing his eyes against the burning feeling spreading in his back. When the pain was reduce to a dull throb, Dean raised his eyes, determination marking his features.

"Son of a bitch! I swear I'm gonna kill you Satan!"

The man shook his head, his smile even wider.

"Satan? Concerning my place in hierarchy, you are right, I'm a fallen angel, but my name has never been the one of the leader of our domain. I'm Azarel"

Dean raised himself on his knees when the belt came crashing on his back again, making the youngest addition in hell to cry out in agony. Azarel smiled, taking pleasure in the pain the young man was experiencing, before he crouched down in front of the fallen man.

"You must learn that no one can stand next to the leaders of the lower world. I'm a leader here and you must learn your place."

Dean let his eyes closed against the pain, before he felt two strong pair of arms dragging him away. Suddenly, he remembered the circle of fire and opening his eyes, he saw that it was now making a straight line up to a palace of fire. A man resembling the one who had tortured him earlier made his way to him, fearless.

"You must release him. The upper world had been advised of his presence here and they will attack if he is not released in the next few hours."

Dean smiled, before facing Azarel. His back was still throbbing with a fierce intensity, but he couldn't miss an opportunity when he saw one.

"I couldn't stand next to you, you said? Well, you should've said that you couldn't stand next to me, since all your twisted little plans have backfired."

Azarel kept on a straight face, ignoring Dean and looking at his leader with unspoken loyalty. He nodded once, before taking Dean right arm in his own hand.

"Follow me."

Dean did as requested, his smile never vanishing of his face. He hadn't been an hour in hell that he was going to be already out. Suddenly, Azarel stopped in the circle of fire that had recreated itself.

"I found you here, now you must find your way out of hell. No one has escaped hell unscathed, but your mighty friends should've given you some tricks. Now, go. I don't want a being of the upper world in our domain."

Immediately those words pronounced, Azarel dissipated in thick smoke. Dean coughed, before his vision cleared.

"Sonuvabitch!"

Dean looked around himself, unknowing of what to do. Fire was still encircling him and he knew he couldn't get pass it. The heat was unbearable and he was standing at a save distance from the edge. If he came any closer, he would suffer of some severe burns.

"Damn!"

Dean sat on the floor, head resting in his hands. Maybe if he waited… Suddenly, he heard someone chuckling behind him and he turned around, surprised. Two figures constituted of black smoke stand near him. The eyes of the silhouette standing on the left kept changing into a glistering yellow color.

Immediately, Dean stood up, putting his fist before his face, protecting his self from the demon he had spent most of his life tracking.

"Dean Winchester. It's been a while I think… a year at most."

The yellow-eyed demon came closer and Dean took a step back, determination shinning in his green eyes.

"A year in which you've been tortured." Dean said, smiling. "Goes fine with me."

A hand filled with smoke closed around Dean's throat.

"My son here met your father, you know? He was apparently extremely disappointed in you, Dean Winchester. All your self-loathing increasing the guilt of his precious son: Sammy. You know he let you stay alive so you could keep on his little crusade and that you could watch on Sam. What a disappointment… Not only did you release thousands of demons upon the Earth, but you didn't even managed to send them all back to hell before your own deal comes to term. I wonder what your daddy would think of you now."

Dean smirked.

"You think you got it right? I saw him after I send your ass back to hell and you know what? He's proud. I saw it in his smile before he went away."

The hand around Dean's throat closed tighter, making Dean choke. A few seconds later, the hand of smoke released Dean's throat, making the eldest son of John Winchester catch mouthfuls of air into his air-deprived lungs. Immediately, the demon's hand raised Dean's head so he could see his eyes.

"Did he actually told you that son or did he just stand there, smiling at both his son for sending me back to hell. Was he proud of the man you became of proud that you finally achieve what he had waited twenty-five years for."

The demon stepped closer to Dean before a cross appeared behind them.

"You know what I love in hell, Dean Winchester? It's totally malleable to the way we wants it to be, when you are one of the chosen."

Dean looked behind him, seeing the cross fall to the ground where piece of ropes appeared. Immediately, a belt came crashing on his back, making him fall on his knees. The yellow-eyed demon came close to his ears.

"I'm going to make you beg like your pathetic little hero that you bunch of people named Jesus."

Dean closed his eyes, before he felt his hands being attached to the hard wood of the cross. When both his hands and feet were securely attached, the demon put a nail against his open palm and pushed it into the skin. Immediately, blood trailed down Dean's arm, while the man attached to the cross screamed in pain. A second nail was embedded in his hand, before the demon put the cross straight on the ground. Dean felt his skin tearing apart in his hand and the agony spread in his whole body.

"SONUVABITCH! I swear to god I'm gonna kill you! I'm gonna kill you all!"

The yellow-eyed demon took another nail, before looking at the man he was currently torturing. Blood was trailing down his back, his arms. The ropes binding him to the cross were doing nothing to prevent his body from going down, breaking the skin, the muscles and the bones of his hands.

"How does that feel, Dean Winchester? How does that feel knowing that you'll spend eternity being tortured? Feeling the pain and the hurt with no chance of escape. How does it feel to…"

His tirade was instantly interrupted when a silver arrow pierced the black smoke, sending the demon crashing unto the ground. Dean looked down, feeling no pity for the one who had been killed. Looking up, he saw that the son had escape, leaving him alone, tied and nailed to a cross like the savior.

"Damn…"

Although the savior wouldn't have been found cursing…

TBC

Don't forget to review ;) and plz don't mind my mistakes: I'm French Canadian and not totally bilingual


	2. Chapter 2

Angels in hell

Chapter II

Dean closed his eyes before pulling on the nails that were restraining him on the cross. He felt the pain flowing freely in his veins, but he didn't give up. The yellow-eyed demon was finally dead and he had been given a free ticket back to Earth. He wasn't going to waste it. Suddenly, the cries ceased around him and silence returned. Opening his eyes, a white light engulfed his vision, before he felt the nails pinning him on the wood leaving his hands and the ropes tying him falling freely to the floor. Without any support, Dean fell on his knees next to the crucifix.

He could still feel the blood on his arms, on his back. The pain was almost unbearable and getting back on his feet, he felt the pain in his back spreading once again. A figure surrounded of white light approached him, before a hand closed around his own hand, covering the holes that had been created by the nails. A strange coldness filled him, numbing the pain. Dean looked down at his other hand, confused. The skin was slowly healing, leaving no scars behind. Raising his head to see the healer that had been brought to him, Dean only noticed the white light and the white wings.

"Who are you?"

The cold feeling stopped altogether before the white light around the eternal being diminished, letting Dean see the true form of his savior. White angelic wings were folded in her back. Her whole body was covered by a white dress and she was as tall as he was. Her long curly brown hair was falling up to her shoulders and a smile lightened up her innocent features.

"I'm an angel of the true God. My name is insignificant in here as is yours."

Dean frowned, looking behind him. Arrows of fires were passing over their head, as were silver arrows. The fire had diminished and suddenly, Dean felt extremely vulnerable in that place of war. Turning his eyes back to the angel, Dean saw that she hadn't released his hand.

"Why were you all so eager to save me. Not that I aren't glad that you have done so, but I just can't wrap my mind unto the fact that you are all willing to sacrifice yourself to save my soul."

The angel smiled once more, unfolding her white wings and taking off to the borders of hell, Dean following behind her, his hand still clasped in hers. When they reached the borders of hell, the angel of God returned to the ground graciously.

"I fulfilled what I have been told to do. Now you must return on Earth. The call of our people will come to you soon. Farewell, Dean Winchester."

Immediately, Dean felt himself fall into nothingness. All senses characteristics of human's life faded and a strange and comforting numbness enveloped him.

Tears were trailing down Sam's cheek while he watched his brother's lifeless form on the hard wooden table. He knew he needed to salt and burn the body, but he couldn't put his heart into it. He had searched a whole year for a way to get Dean out of the deal. A year he had spend restless nights, searching in every book, every website he could think of, but still without a clue of how to save his big brother.

Now, it was too late. He had done everything he could think of, but it hadn't been enough.

"I'm sorry Dean…"

Sam's voice broke when he pronounced those simple words. He wanted desperately to broke down and cry his loss, but he couldn't. Dean had made it simple: "move on and get your ass back to Stanford". He wanted to follow his brother's last wish, but he couldn't. He needed to know who was the crossroad demon's leader. The one who had bluntly refused to let Dean out of the deal, even if one of his minion's life was compromised. He needed to know who it was so he could achieve his own personal revenge.

Sam approached the table, before laying his head on his brother's unmoving chest.

"I'm so sorry Dean… I told you I will find you a way out of the deal, but I didn't… I didn't…"

Sam's fist clenched on the fabric covering his brother's body. On the leather jacket that John, their father, had given his son on Dean's sixteenth birthday.

"I can't understand why you didn't want Ruby to help us. She said she had a way to save you, man, but you just refused. How could you do that to you? To me? Well, I guess it doesn't matter now…"

Sam stood up, taking out a flask of salt and a lighter.

"I just want you to remember that you were the best big brother that someone could dream of. You sacrificed so much for the family. So everyone could be happy and without a single thought to yourself… I wish I could do the same to you, but it's too late now…"

Sam sniffed loudly, before erasing his tears with his hand.

"Goodbye Dean…"

Sam opened the canister and let the fuel fall on his brother's body, before reaching for the salt. A sudden movement near him stopped his movement and he turned around, searching for the source of the noise.

"Who's there?"

Sam stood up, his hand reaching unconsciously to the gun he had taken earlier. He turned around, before the sound resonated again in the darkness of the night. Sam turned around, facing Dean's body and trying to see the source of the sound before a white light surrounded his brother's body. Almost immediately, his brother's wounds disappeared, his heart started to beat again. Sam's mouth dropped in astonishment before he took out a flask of holy water that he always kept near himself. It couldn't be his brother. Dean had been send to hell.

Brusquely, Dean took a mouthful of air, eyes going wide and confused, his hair damped from the fuel Sam had spill on his self a few minutes earlier.

Sam took a step forward, mouth dropping.

"Dean?"

Dean looked at his brother, confusion evident on his face.

"Dude, what the hell?"

Dean got down from the table, frowning.

"Man, what did you do? I stink like hell!"

Sam took out the flask of holy water, giving it to his brother. His eyes unblinking, remembering every action, every movements, like it was all a dream.

"Drink!"

Dean frowned, looking at the flask then at his brother.

"Dude, is that really necessary?"

Sam nodded, not trusting his voice anymore. Dean took the flask, seeing the desperation in his little brother's eyes, before taking a few mouthful of holy water and giving back to his brother.

"I'm not possessed, alright. Now, can you just explain to me what the hell happened? Dude, I smell of death and fuel! How do you want me to get laid after that?"

Sam came closer, eyes still wide and unbelieving.

"What's the last thing that you remember?"

Dean frowned again, trying to remember.

"Well, we were back from kicking some demonic son of a bitch's ass and then you told me you needed to get some water for god knows what and that's it, I think…"

Sam nodded, remembering the unpleasant memory as well.

"I did get the water and it was to clean your wounds. The demon slashed your left side and it was bleeding pretty heavily. The motel's water was kind of brown so I didn't trust it enough to prevent you from having an infection. Anyhow, when I returned back from the office, the motel's door was open and you were laying on the floor, obviously dead…"

Dean's eyes went huge, his right arm going unconsciously to his left side.

"I was… I was dead? But how the hell did I got out of hell?"

"That's exactly what I want to know," Sam said, looking unbelievably at the table Dean had been laying on. Dead.


	3. Chapter 3

Angels in hell

Chapter III

Sam took out his cellular from his coat, opening the screen and looking over the list of contacts. When the name of Bobby Singer appeared on the list, Sam clicked the send button, before waiting for his family friend to answer the call. Taking out his coat and putting on some shoes, Sam went outside, shutting the sound of the shower running.

Immediately when they had both arrive at the motel, Dean had gone into the shower, taking with him some body lotion. Even Sam, who was accustomed to the smell of death and fuel had to say that it was pretty unpleasant to be around.

"Singer's salvage yard"

Sam smiled when Bobby's rough voice answered.

"Hi Bobby. It's Sam. I need to ask you a favor."

"I'm occupied Sam. I'll call you back later, alright?"

"Alright."

Sam closed his phone, frowning. It was the first time Bobby bluntly refused of talking to him. Putting his cell back into his pocket, Sam opened the door before an aroma of body lotion for man made his way to him.

"Damn Dean! Your worst then a girl!"

Dean smirked, before putting a t-shirt over his head.

"At least, I'm not the one with the girly hair and the affection of chick flick moments, Samantha."

Sam shook his head, knowing a desperate case when he saw one. Taking off his shoes, Sam let himself drop on the bed nearest to the door, before taking the laptop that was resting on the bed to his knees.

"I called Bobby…" Sam began, but Dean cut him off.

"I know, what did he say? Did he know how I escaped from hell? There was no open gate right?"

Sam shook his head, looking at his laptop.

"Not that I can find, although there are a lot of electrical storms in the north, but that's not the weird part. Look at that."

Sam turned the laptop over so his brother could see the screen. It was a Canadian weather forecast and all over the country as well as the north of the U.S.A, there were electrical storms as well as snowstorms. Scientifics were dumbfounded, seeing one of those in twenty years, but it was the first time that the storm had such a great importance, covering the entire country and expending over the U.S.A.

"What the hell?"

Sam nodded.

"Electrical storms means presence of demons, but what's confusing me is the snowstorm. Where the hell has it comes from? What does it means and why would all the demons moved north? What is so important that they leave their current activities to go all to the same place? It's almost as if there was a war between the demons and something else."

Dean shook his head.

"That can't be…"

Suddenly, Sam's cellular started to vibrate in his pocket. Sam grabbed it, before answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Sam? I need to talk to you. Have you seen the weather forecast of the north of the country?"

"Yeah, I just saw it on the net. What's happening?"

Bobby didn't answer right away, but when he did, Sam's blood froze in his veins.

"It's war. A war between two clans: angels and demons. As you know, electrical storms means that demons are in the area, while snowstorms means the presence of angels. The two clans are fighting, although over what, I dunno. The war is moving to Earth. Demons want their leader back. I don't know what to make of it, but some contact told me that Lucifer is on Earth. For redemption."

"How can Satan be forgiven for what he did wrong when he is the devil itself? There is no redemption for something that can't change."

Sam heard Bobby sighing on the phone and saw the confusion on his brother's face. He knew he couldn't answer his brother's questions right away, so he ignored him.

"Actually, Lucifer wasn't always the devil itself. He was an angel: follower of the true God, just before he fell into the darkness. Then, he became a fallen angel and was bound to hell. Knowing he couldn't escape, Satan made himself the leader of the place, torturing the souls who have sinned and taking pleasure in their pain. When other fallen angels joined him, he fell further into the darkness."

Sam nodded, before realizing that Bobby couldn't see him over the phone.

"Alright, so what do we do? Do you know what could have created this war?" While pronouncing those words, Sam looked at Dean, a frown evident on his face. From his point of view, he could presume who could have been the source.

"I dunno, like I said before. Some says that an angel had been captured in the debt of fires to be released later; some says that Lucifer had returned to his domain before being sent back on Earth by angels."

Sam eyes went huge at the last statement, looking at his brother with fear.

"Would Lucifer be susceptible to holy water?"

"I don't think so… Lucifer was a Seraphim before being sent to hell. Seraphs are the highest order of Gods angelic servants and holy water can't harm something as old as the world itself."

"If he's truly on Earth, searching redemption... would he remember his previous life?" Sam asked, still watching his brother closely.

"I'm not sure. If he needs to get back on Earth and to live the life of a mortal to be forgiven, I think he wouldn't. Satan was a son of a bitch who needed attention and control. He always needed to be the center of attention. If he, like you said, remembered his previous life, destruction would have been brought upon mankind."

"Thanks Bobby. I'll call you back."

Sam was going to close his cell, when Bobby's voice stopped him from doing so.

"Wait Sam! We need to find him. Lucifer I mean. If he's back on Earth for redemption and that demons have been designated to find him, he mustn't be tempted by the darkness. He must stay on our side you got it? When you find him, bring him to Missouri. She'll be able to tell you if he's the one or not. "

"Alright, thanks Bobby!"

Sam closed his phone, looking at his brother, fear shining in his eyes. He couldn't understand why his brother, the most selfless person he knew, could be the devil itself. He did act like a slut sometimes, but it wasn't a reason for him to be the devil itself.

"I think we need to talk."

Dean's eyes showed his confusion, but he didn't say anything. Sitting on his bed, he faced his brother.

"Understatement of the year," he murmured, remembering all the times Sam had asked the same things. Looking up and seeing the fear and the confusion in his little brother's eyes, he tried a last attempt in easing the tension in the room.

"If it's one of your chick-flick moments, I'm so out of here, bitch!"

Sam didn't even replied by his usual "jerk". He only kept looking at his older brother, afraid of the outcome of what he was going to tell him.

"What's the matter?" Dean finally asked, breaking the silence. "Why did you ask all those questions about that sonofabitch?"

Sam sighed, not knowing how to tell the truth to his brother. How could he explain that Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinary of all supernatural being, was the devil incarnate itself? How could he explain that all those demons they had send back to hell together, were the minions of his brother. His army.

"Damn Dean… I don't know how to tell you this…"

Sam sighed once before looking into his brother's hazel eyes.

"There have been some rumors on the electrical storms and the snow storms… A snowstorm indicates the manifestation of angels, so logically, there is a war raging between demons and angels…" Sam said "He told me that it is very possible that the source of the war is the devil itself: Lucifer. He had been sent to Earth for redemption… before being sent back to hell, but he was taken back on Earth by angels… Demons were angry of the outcome and declared war against angels..."

Sam looked directly into his brother's eyes before continuing, wanting to have his brother's full attention.

"I think that it might be you… I think that you are Lucifer…"

"You're kidding me, right? There is no way in hell that I'm that satanic son of a bitch!" Dean shouted in anger.

Standing up, Dean took his leather jacket from his bed, before grabbing the car keys.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, confused.

"Out of here."

Dean closed the door behind him, making his way angrily to the his beloved Chevrolet Impala '67. Even if he knew, deep inside his heart, that he wasn't Lucifer, the eldest son of John Winchester also knew that all evidences were against him. He had been resurrected from the death the same day that demons had declared war against angels.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm not really proud of this chapter… anyway, plz review? I would love to know what your thinking of this…

Angels in hell

Chapter 4

Sam turned over in his bed, before looking at the clock on the small brown table. It was already 1:34 a.m. Three hours earlier; Dean had leave the room, taking with him the keys of the Impala and Sam hadn't heard a word on him since. He had hope his brother would be home before morning, but once again, he had been wrong.

Sighing in exasperation, Sam sat up before putting on some shoes and taking out his coat from the small kitchen chair. Opening the door, he shivered against the freezing air. Wind was blowing freely, announcing the storm that was spreading over the country.

"Damn…" Sam cursed, noticing that he had no clue about Dean's whereabouts. Sitting on the small step leading to the motel room, Sam put his head down in his hands, before letting out a desperate sigh. Some demons were searching all over the country for their leader and Dean was nowhere to be found. His brother was in danger and he wasn't even there to prevent any unfortunate attack or tentative to take Dean back to hell.

Suddenly, tires screeching on the road made him look up toward a Chevy Impala. The car took an abrupt curve, before parking brusquely in front of the motel room.

Sam's mouth dropped open as Dean closed the door angrily behind him. What kind of state was Dean in to be treating his car in such a reckless manner?

"Dude! What's your problem?" Sam said, following his brother into the motel room.

Dean turned toward his brother, fist clenched in anger.

"You wanna know what my problem is?" Dean uttered angrily, stepping toward his younger brother, but seeing the confusion into his brother's eyes, he stopped and looked away.

"Hell, like you even cares …"

Dean turned around, before taking some clothes out from his bag and starting to make his way toward the bathroom, but Sam blocked him.

"Dude, I'm tired of you not talking. You did the same thing with dad and with that damn secret he told you to keep before dying and it almost destroyed you so either you want it or not, your talking, man."

Sam crossed his arms, waiting. A few minutes passed in an awkward silence, before Dean shifted on his feet, apparently tired of waiting.

"What do you want me to say, Sam? That I'm glad that my life is more fucked up then it already was? That I'm glad I went to hell and miraculously escaped without any remembrance of the last few days? You know what? I'm sending those sons of a bitch back to where they belong almost daily and suddenly; I learned that I'm their master and that I'm the devil in person: the one who made them who they are. You know what? I spent my entire life fighting and now, I'm the one I should be fighting? Hell, even demons are nothing considered next to that sonofabitch that I'm supposed to be."

"Dean…" Sam began, but Dean cut him off.

"If it's to say just how sorry you are and going all girly on me, then just step out of the way."

Dean tried to shove Sam away, but in vain. His younger brother refused to move.

"Dean, just let me explain. There was another theory that Bobby told me about, although we didn't elaborate a lot on it, it is still a possibility. Rumors have said that an angel could have been brought to hell and that was the reason why angels declared war against the demons, because they tortured one of their kind. Demons are maybe searching Lucifer for now, but it can also only be because Satan is one of the first angels and by that fact, he possess powers above those of an average angel."

Dean sighed.

"So you mean that I'm either an angel or the devil itself. Right! Just so you know, I'm not exactly what you'll call angelic or demoniac."

"I know, but those rumors are a possibility. The reason why you escape hell is vague. We don't know for sure if there is a link between the events and your escape. As far as we know, you could have used the war to your advantage and escape as both clans were fighting."

Dean nodded, unclenching his hands. He could see the logic behind Sam's words and he also knew that they needed to see Missouri before the events swallowed them both in a war that had been raging on for ages.

Dean blinked against the sunlight invading his dreams. A muffled curse passed his lips and he opened his eyes, cursing once again the fact that the motel room didn't have any shutters. Sam was already on the computer, looking every once in a while at the storm raging outside.

"Driving is gonna be a bitch," Dean said, standing up.

Sam nodded.

"The weather forecast is warning people against taking the wheel and as much as you love your Impala it got doesn't have winter wheels. We have more chances of skidding down the road then arriving in Lawrence. Maybe we should postpone our departure…"

Dean took out a coffee that had long since gone cold from the counter and began sipping it slowly, before putting it back on the counter.

"The impala have 4 seasons wheels, so it's as good as those winter wheels you're talking about. Give my girl a little more credit then that."

Sam closed his laptop, before thunder resonated in the distance, startling Dean. The youngest brother opened the door, a furious wind blowing instantly in the motel room. Snowflakes were falling on the carpet, while lightning flash appeared in the horizon. The scenery was completely swallowed in white.

"It's been like that for hours and you still want to take the wheel? Look outside, we can't even see pass the Impala and it's parked in less then two feet from the motel room. There is no one outside and you know why? Because they got more sense then being suicidal and going straight into the storm."

Dean sighed as Sam closed the door.

"And what do you plan to do, geekboy? Rotting on our ass all day long waiting for the storm to pass?"

Sam shook his head.

"To wait until it's safe. We're not much more advanced if we have an accident on the road!"

Dean took his bag from the floor before grabbing his coffee.

"Do as you wish, but I'm outta here. If what you said is true, a war is raging and I don't think they'll wait for the storm to pass before fighting!"

Sam put the key of the motel room on the small kitchen table.

"The storm is the war," he murmured, before taking his bag and following his brother in the snow.

The wind was blowing freely around him, almost preventing him from advancing, while snowflakes were dancing around him, obstructing his visibility. Keeping an hand on the impala so he wouldn't fall if he walked on ice, Sam put his duffle bag into the trunk before Dean closed it. They both made their way to their respective door, before Dean put the key of the impala into the ignition and drove off into the storm.


	5. Chapter 5

Angels in hell

Chapter 5

Sam was strongly gripping the dashboard in front of him. The car kept skidding on the road and with the speed at with Dean was driving, Sam was seriously afraid of not being able to see his next birthday. The road was completely swallowed in snow and since their departure from the motel, Sam found out that no car was on the road – except a Chrysler 300 who was driving at 12mph, while Dean was driving near 62 mph. When they had been stuck behind the Chrysler, Dean had swerved into the other line, the car skidding on the ice hidden beneath the snow. Instantly when Dean got the car in control again, they returned in the appropriate line. The scenery was swallowed in white and they couldn't see farther then a few feet in front of the car.

"Slow down!" Sam shouted in fright, when the car swerved around a corner, skidding dangerously again on some ice.

Dean ignored him, but decreased the speed at which the car was going. A few more hours passed before they finally saw a panel hidden beneath the snow. Sam remembered from their last trip in Kansas, the "Welcome to Lawrence" sign which was written on it.

"Well, now that we've arrived," Sam said, looking at the 40mph at which the car was still speeding. "Can you just slow down before we hit someone or something,"

Dean did as his brother requested, but not without adding an exasperated sigh to show his disapproval.

A few more minutes passed before they parked in front of Missouri's house. The driveway was covered in snow as was the sidewalk and after a few minutes, the car was finally able to park without it being in the middle of the road.

Immediately when they climbed up the stairs leading to the front door, Missouri opened the door.

"What are you boys waiting for? Come on in." She finally said when they didn't make any movements nor utter any sounds at her sight.

Sam and Dean did as requested, following her into the living room. They both seated at the same place they did last time they went in, while Missouri seated herself into the wing chair.

"You came here for answers, haven't ya?"

Sam nodded, while Dean made sure not to touch an inch of the table in front of him as he shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. They were finally in Lawrence, a few minutes away from learning the truth about how he escaped the depth of fires.

Missouri stood up before going to a chest of drawers, taking out multiple herbs.

"Now Sam, can you tell me what happened before I do what I have to do, but don't you bother yourself with the deal that stupid brother of yours did to save your soul. I already know it all."

Sam nodded, looking up as Missouri from where he was sitting.

"Well… Like you know, after that deal, Dean only had one more year to live, but we didn't find any way to get him out of that deal before those hellhounds came to claim what was due. They waited until I went away from the motel before attacking and sending his soul to hell. When I returned back to the motel, it was already too late; I couldn't do anything to save him. I didn't told anyone about his death and two days later, I finally decided that it was time for me to salt'n burn his… corpse…" he added, shivering against the memories. "Anyhow, when I was almost ready to light the match, he suddenly came back to himself, alive and well… We don't know for sure how it happened since he didn't remember anything and then there was that storm. Bobby, one of dad's old friends, called us and said that a war between demons and angels had arisen. Bobby had a few theories on how it could have happened, but didn't told me much about those."

Dean looked at Sam, confused. Why wasn't he telling the part about Lucifer and angels?

"I think your letting a big part of the story out boy. I won't judge you. Hell, even I can understand your suspicions about him being Lucifer… although an angel… that would surprise me for sure."

Sam laughed, looking at Dean. His brother returned his gaze, but instead of seeing the false hurt his brother wanted him to see, he saw fear. Fear of what was to come, of who he was supposed to be.

"It's alright Dean," Sam said, trying to give his brother some comfort for what was to come. "Remember that whatever your past is, it's who you are now that's important and that's what matters."

Dean frowned in confusion.

"What is it with you and those chick-flick? I swear that sometimes I seriously ask myself if we're related."

Suddenly, a sharp pain on the back of his head made him looks up to Missouri in confusion.

"What's your problem?"

"He's trying to make you feel better. Show a little more respect."

Dean sighed, before looking at the various herbs Missouri had managed to put on the table near an old metallic mortar.

"What is it for?" Dean asked, looking at the name of one of the various ingredients.

"To help you recover what's lost, of course." Missouri answered.

Sam approached the mortar looking at the various ingredients of witchcraft.

"Isn't it dangerous to be dealing with this kind of stuff?"

"Of course it is! Everything we do is dangerous, but tell me boy, what's life without danger?" Missouri answered, crushing down a few ingredients that she had put in the mortar.

"Did you ever do this kind of spell before?"

Missouri looked up from the content of the bowl.

"What do you take me for? An amateur? Give me a little more credit then that."

Sam sighed, before sitting down next to Dean on the floor. He could still see the fear in his brother's eyes, but he could also see determination and that was what was important.

"Can we do something to help?" Sam finally asked.

Missouri shook her head, before putting the pestle back on the table.

"No, it's already finished. Now, Dean, you need to drink all of this."

She put the mortar in front of Dean, before standing up and going to the other side. She crouched down in front of the eldest son of John Winchester, smiling reassuringly.

"Don't you worry. I'll follow you up in those memories of yours. If anything goes south, I'll be able to bring you back."

Dean nodded, before taking a spoonful of the concoction and eating it slowly. He grimaced at the unfamiliar taste.

"What did you put in that stuff? That's uneatable!"

Missouri ignored him, still looking for any signs of the concoction working.

"Alright… are you sure you did the right thing? There's nothing happening." Dean said, after a few moments of awkward silence in which they all watch his every movement.

"Are you sure?" Missouri asked, frowning. "You should have begun to feel the effects of the concoction by now, boy."

Dean frowned, putting the mortar back on the table along with the spoon. Standing up, a sudden wave of dizziness brought him down to his knees before he could utter a word. He heard his brother calling his name in a desperate shout before hands caught him, preventing him from hitting his head on the floor.

"What's happening? He was fine a minute ago!" Sam said, looking at his unresponsive brother. He could see Dean's eyes rolling back into his head.

Missouri crouched down in front of the fallen boy, before putting a hand on his chest. Immediately, she took it back, as if Dean's necklace had burned her. Missouri's frown deepened.

"He has a protection amulet. It's trying to protect him from the spell."

Sam nodded, taking it from his brother's neck. Dean eyes immediately opened, the iris turning white. Sam shivered at the sight, but didn't release his brother from his hands. He could feel his brother's body shaking, his hands twisting spasmodically.

"Dean?" Sam asked, tentatively, but his brother remained unaware of his surrounding.

Missouri put her hand on Dean's forehead and closed her eyes, allowing her self to fall into Dean's mind.


	6. Chapter 6

Angels in hell

Chapter VI

As soon as Missouri was able to see anything aside from the fire raging, she saw the broken body of a man in front of her. His clothes were torn from various hits on his back, while he still tried to stand strong, without showing any weakness. His eyes were fearless; showing his determination, while in front of him a stranger was standing, looking down at his prey, a belt in his hand. She could smell the evil that he radiated, but she couldn't move from where she was. This situation was only a memory; something that occurred but couldn't be changed even if she wanted to.

_The man holding the belt was tall. Taller then Sam would ever be. His skin was burned and red from the fire and an unnatural smirk that gave away his hostility, his pleasure of pain and anger was marking his features. Dark wings burned by fire were folded in his back. _

"_The mighty Dean Winchester. You aren't so powerful now, aren't you? Not even able to stand straight… what a shame."_

_Dean raised himself to his knees, before the belt came crashing on his back again. The eldest son of John Winchester cried out in pure agony, closing his eyes against the burning feeling spreading in his back. When the pain reduced to a dull throb, Dean raised his eyes, determination marking his features._

"_Sonofabitch!" he cursed "I swear I'm gonna kill you Satan!"_

_The man shook his head, his smile even wider._

"_Satan? Concerning my place in hierarchy, you are right, I'm a fallen angel, but my name has never been the one of the leader of our domain. I'm Azarel"_

Missouri watched as the belt came crashing down on his back once more, she watched as another demon told Azarel to release him, only for Dean to be tortured by the yellow-eyed demon and she finally watched his escape, escorted by a lone angel. The words that marked her most were the one the angel pronounced before his departure: "The call of our people will come to you soon."

She now understood that he was above an average human, but the reason why she wasn't able to sense his true identity was beyond her.

Then, the memory of Dean's time in hell faded to let another memory appear; a memory where all hopes for normalcy were extinguished.

"Mary! No!"

She heard John's screaming, before she even heard the little boy running up toward the cry of his father. She immediately noticed an amulet, no different then the one he had been wearing today, in his hand. A frown marked her face. Did someone knew of the boy's special identity and tried to save him by the protection of a lone amulet?

She followed him until he met his father near his brother's bedroom. As John gave the toddler a responsibility that few adults would be able to keep, she watched the amulet falling on the ground, only to be replaced by a bundle of blankets which were keeping his little brother save.

"What the…"

A few minutes later, burning flames melted the amulet, destroying, at the same time, the protection that had been laid upon the little boy.

The memory faded once more to let another appear and then, she understood.

A circle had been drawn upon the floor of the nursery, in which a little boy laid on his back, his face red from crying.

"Shhhhh… Daddy's gonna come home soon."

A woman crouched down in front of the crying baby, long blond hair falling behind her back while she was dressed in a white gown. Long and delicates fingers traced a symbol of blood on the baby's head, before she chanted a ritual in Latin. When she finished the chanting, she took an amulet, putting it in the same liquid she had traced the symbol with.

"As long as you keep this on you, you'll be protected. Angels will watch over you thru the night while no demons will know of what you truly are."

She took the baby up in arms, before taking him back into his crib. Putting the amulet under the bed, she made sure it was secured and out of reach before standing up, kissing the little boy's forehead.

"Good night Dean."

She smiled once more, before taking away evidences of the ritual.

Then, the memory faded to a time where she was still a child. She instantly saw him, standing tall among other angels, silver wings folded in his back and his usual smirk marking his features. A few angelic women were looking at him lovingly, trying to get his attention. Dean smiled at them before going to a tall blond woman.

"It is time, isn't it?" he asked, taking her hand and leading her away.

The woman smiled sadly, her white wings spreading in her back.

"Don't you worry, my son, you'll join me soon enough."

Dean frowned.

"But why must we go on Earth?"

The woman sighed, looking away toward the sun.

"It is a long tale. I don't have much time to tell you." She turned toward him, letting Missouri finally see her features.

"Mary?" she whispered, taken aback.

Mary smiled, letting a hand caress gently his son's face.

"There is a prophecy about future events. A son born of an angel and brother of someone who seek redemption will be able to save this person from the darkness. In the future, a war will be declared between our kind and demons. You, my child, is going to help this person. You'll lead him into the light; into our kind."

Dean frowned.

"But how am I supposed to do that? When will I know when the time is right?"

Mary stepped back, letting her hand fall.

"You'll learn it all eventually. Don't you worry… Everything is going to be alright in the end and just remember one thing during my time on Earth: woman aren't only there to get sexual intercourse with." She said, smiling.

Dean smirked, but his eyes still showed the sadness he felt at her departure. A white light engulfed her figure, before she disappeared.

Missouri closed her eyes, knowing she had seen enough before she let herself fall back in her body.

Now, she had to tell Sam the truth; about how destiny had placed a brother against the other; about how they were both supposed to be fighting in this Great War, but not in the same troop.


	7. Chapter 7

Angels in hell

Chapter 7

Slowly, Missouri woke up from the depth of the eldest dreams. In such a few moments, she understood all past events that occurred; the reason of it all, but she'll need both brothers awake for the telling of the tale.

"Missouri?"

Sam's voice penetrated her thoughts, bringing her back to reality. She could feel the hard wooden floor underneath herself and sitting up, she saw that she hadn't move from the living room, although tables and chairs had been pushed against the walls. She knew what those kinds of spells did to the human body, understanding that it was the safest thing to do while they were lost in the past and as their body's shook from assault of the mind.

"Help me up boy. I'm not as young as I used to be." Missouri said, looking up at Sam.

Sam nodded, helping the psychic back on her feet. For a few moments, she swayed on unsteady legs, the task of going into someone else's mind taking its toll on her remaining energy.

"Alright." She said, when she gained her strenght back, before she decided to put some furniture back to its original place. "Now make yourself useful: get that brother of yours into one of my guest room." She said looking up. "He won't be up for a few hours, at least."

Sam nodded, before taking his brother up in a fireman carry. He grunted under the weight of his brother and waited until Missouri had cleaned the room up as best as she could before following her up the stairs. She led them into the guest room where two beds were placed against the light blue walls. A small window was providing few rays of sunlight into the room. Missouri opened the lamp near the bed, while Sam put his brother on the matress.

"How long is he gonna stay like that?" Sam asked, looking worriedly at his older brother.

Missouri shrugged.

"I don't know Sam. It depends on what he needs to know in those dreams of his."

Sam nodded, tuckling his brother in. If his brother would have been awake, there would have been a fight over that simple act, he was sure of it.

"Now boy, I have a customer who's waiting for me. I'll return when he'll wake up and there is a chair in the other room if you wanna stay with him."

"Thanks Missouri"

Missouri smiled, before making her way downstairs. When the elder woman was gona, Sam went into the room adjacent to theirs and fetched the hard wooden chair Missouri had told him about. Returning into the guest room, Sam brought the chair nearer to Dean's bed and sat on it, sighing as he did so.

"Alright… so I guess we have a few hours of doing nothing…"

Sam sighed once more, not knowing what to do or to help. He wanted desperately to bring his brother out of this comatose state, but he didn't know how. As far as he could tell, the only thing he could do to help was being there for his brother.

Sam suddenly frowned, remembering Ruby's words when she told him that he still had every power from before. Maybe he could help his brother? Maybe he could go into his mind and tell him to wake up?

Sam brought a shaking hand on his brother's forehead, unknowing of what he was supposed to do, but imitating Missouri's own previous actions.

"Help me a little, there Dean. Let me in…" Sam whispered, closing his eyes.

Suddenly, he felt both his and Dean's heartbeat matching each other. Exhaling and inhaling at the same time then Dean. He could feel a burning light engulfing his head. All he could see became of a white color and pain ran freely through his veins. His heartbeat, however, was still frighteningly calm, like nothing was happening. Sam pushed with all he had, disconnecting his self from his brother.

"What was that?" he murmured, trying to control his suddenly painful breathing.

Sam brought a shaky hand in his hair, pushing them back. He could still feel the pain, the disconnecting feeling he had with his own body. His heartbeat was racing with fright. He hadn't had any power since the Yellow-eyed demon was sent to hell. How could they be reappearing now?

Sam closed his eyes, forcing his heartbeat into a regular pace. When he felt himself calming down, he opened his eyes, jumping in fright when the door opened fast behind him.

"What were you doing?"

Sam turned around, startled.

Both hands on her hips, her mouth forming a thin line in anger, Missouri was standing in the doorway, fuming.

"I asked you a question boy and you better answer it. I don't have all day."

Sam stood up, still trembling slightly from what happened.

"I… I dunno… I only wanted him to wake up…"

Missouri went straight to Dean's bed, putting a hand on his forehead. When she felt nothing irregular from that invasion, she turned around.

"What you did was extremely dangerous Sam. Invading his mind without practice can have desastrous consequences for you and for your brother. I made a concoction to go into his mind and I did it right after the effects of it took place, bringing myself back after a few minutes in there. You could have been stuck in there Sam and if it had happened, I couldn't have brought you back. You could also have messed up with his mind, erasing memories and doing some serious damage. A link broken between memories could simply erase them all."

Sam's eyes went huge at that statement, looking at his brother with fright. Seeing the fear in the youngest Winchester's eyes, Missouri sighed.

"Don't go around blaming yourself Sam. Nothing happened."

Sam nodded, turning his gaze to Missouri, then back at his brother.

A white light engulfed his vision, bringing him back from the depth of own mind. He could feel himself drifting into awakeness, but he barely had the strenght to open his eyes, even less to tell his brother that he was alright. Dean wanted to drift back to sleep, but he knew he needed to come back to himself. To make sure his brother was alright.

Dean struggled to open his eyes, barely seeing shadows from his vantage on the bed. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision when he felt Sam's gaze going back to him.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed, grinning.

Dean grimaced at the loud sound of his brother's voice. He felt like his brother just shouted into his ear.

"Damn, keep your voice lower will you?" Dean said weakly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Missouri walked toward the elder brother and crouched down in front of him, while Sam took Dean's limp hand in his.

"How are you feeling, Dean?" Missouri asked.

Dean shrugged,

"It depends. Do I feel like shit from an hangover or from some of your wicked witch's tricks?"

Missouri slapped him lightly on the back of his head.

"I'm psychic not some witch, boy."

"Then a hangover it is…" Dean said, grinning slightly.

Sam shook his head.

"Don't you remember? We went here because…"

"Because of that angel or Satan thing." Dean said, cutting his brother's explanation. "Ya I know, no need to rub salt into the wound."

Sam winced, but continued questionning his brother, wanting to know the whole truth about that war raging.

"Do you remember anything from your dreams?"

Dean's face went pale. He could still remember his mother's words from before she went back on Earth, but how could he tell his little brother the truth?

"No I don't" he lied, closing his eyes.

Sam frowned, while Missouri stood up.

"Follow me downstairs, boy. I need to talk to you and your brother needs to get back his strenght. He'll feel better once he sleeps some more."

Sam nodded, still looking at his brother. Why had he lied? Was the reality so difficult to accept that he needed to hide it?

Sam sighed, tightening his grip on his brother's hand then releasing it.

"I'll be downstairs. If there is anything, just give us a shout, alright?"

Disappointed that his brother didn't seem to have heard his words, Sam turned around, closing the door slightly behind him.


End file.
